Chuck vs the World
by jwr96a
Summary: My version of what might have happened just after the season 2 finale. Will Chuck & Sarah find a way to be together? I hope so. Please read and review. Chapter 5 update just added.
1. Chapter 1

All the standard disclaimers. I don't own Chuck. All mistakes are my own. I hope that this story moves you in one way or another.

This is my very first attempt at creating a fanfic, so please let me know what you think in the review section. It would mean a lot to me.

Enjoy!

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**Prologue**

It's 3am. He can't get to sleep. He wants that more than anything, to close his tired eyes and shut off his endless thoughts. But it's just not going to come. Not tonight. With a short sigh, he sits up in bed and puts his aching head in his hands. He knows that he'd made the right decision earlier that night. He knows that his life is never going to be the same, never going to be anything anyone would call "normal," but that just doesn't really matter to him anymore. He's spent the last two years of his life fighting with himself, wrestling with his feelings, letting outside events and situations push and shove him all over the place. He's done being pushed around by external forces; he's done being a passive victim who scrambles to react in the moment to whatever's happening to him. It's time for him to take a hold of his own life. It's time for him to start shaping his own future. He's known this truth for a long time, but he was only able to finally act on it a few hours ago.

No one forced him to place his hand on that screen to activate the new Intersect computer. No one used a gun to make him open his eyes wide as the images started to flash everywhere around him. No one threatened him into his actions. He made a choice. He came to a decision. It had nothing to do with fear. It was something else that drove him.

As he thinks back to that fateful moment, he lifts his head from his hands and gets up from the bed. He walks down the hallway to the bathroom, closes the door and turns on the light. Looking at his haggard appearance in the mirror, he can't help but start to smile. The word he's been looking for comes to him in that instant. The word that perfectly describes what he was feeling in that Intersect room, the feeling that drove him to choose a life he never thought he could want. The feeling coursing through him right now. The perfect word for that feeling is hope.

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It's 3:30am. She can't manage to fall asleep. She just can't stop replaying it over and over in her head. The moment on the beach when she finally admitted to herself that she wasn't going to be able to leave him. Not now. Not ever. The quiet conversation they almost finished during their dance at the reception party. The feeling of belonging that overwhelmed her as he whispered his heart and soul into her ear and held her close. The words she wanted to say that she didn't say before they were suddenly interrupted. Words that would have changed everything.

But everything has changed anyway. She smiles sadly at how ironic it all is. On the same night that she made the choice to walk away from her world so that she wouldn't have to walk away from him, he made the choice to courageously step all the way into her world. A world full of lies and violence and pain. Did he reach that decision because she'd never managed to tell him how she really feels about him? Did he think that the only way they could ever really be together was for him to be the one who left his old life behind? She shakes her head, angry, wondering how she could've ever done that to him. How could she let that confusion keep existing between them? If her lack of honesty with him about the true nature of their relationship is the reason he threw away his last chance at a normal life, she knows there's a good chance she'll never be able to forgive herself. For being selfish. For being scared. For being less than he deserves.

She sits up in bed and stares at the large mirror on the wall across her hotel room. The moonlight is softly filtering in through the white curtains just enough for her to see her own reflection. Even in the dim light, she can tell that her eyes are swollen from the moments of crying that've been coming and going all night. Why did he have to put his hand on that damn screen? Why did he keep his eyes open as all those horrible secrets implanted themselves into his innocent brain? And what else entered into his mind along with those secrets? What kind of power was enabling him to perform the awe-inspiring martial arts that saved all three of them? Was he even the same person? With all of her questions, one thing was for sure…the tired woman looking back at her in the mirror had a hell of a lot to answer for.

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It's 3:45am. He looks at the clock for the twentieth time. The hotel bed is nice enough, but he just can't get to sleep. He gives up and walks into the bathroom and turns on the water to the shower. He's supposed to be halfway around the world by now. This mission is supposed to be over. Finished. History. He steps into the shower and lets the warm water rush over him. He suddenly feels just how exhausted he really is.

He doesn't know whether to be frustrated or excited. Part of him wants nothing more than to be alongside of other elite soldiers, aggressively pursuing the enemy in the hardest and harshest places imaginable. He misses the adrenaline rush that always comes with international covert missions. Jumping out of planes in the middle of the night, firing a bullet from the barrel of a sniper rifle half a mile away from the intended target. And yet, he has grown very close to his partner, and in his more honest moments (this being one of them) he knows that he's developed a deep respect for the asset as well. The nerd has managed to survive everything that's been thrown at him, and somewhere along the way, the civilian loser with the stalled-out life has become something more. He smiles at the thought of just how far that lanky awkward twerp has come. Even if he can't be with his fellow assassins in a foreign battlefield, he knows there are much worse places to be than "babysitting" the walking computer. He knows that he can make the world a better, safer place here just as well as somewhere out there.

And the thought of what he witnessed taking place a few hours ago excites him even more. Apparently, the asset downloaded a hell of a lot more than data and information. His flash in the Intersect room empowered him to amazingly incapacitate and neutralize five highly skilled enemy agents. He and his defenseless handcuffed partner had just watched in wonder as the asset saved them from certain death. It was mind-blowing. The potential the kid now possesses because of the new Intersect is obviously off the charts. With the right kind of training, he might be nearly unstoppable. He'll certainly be the best.

He steps out of the shower and dries off. Time to get to Castle. He has a few thoughts he wants to share with the General before the other two members of his team arrive.

**Chapter 1**

Chuck decides to get out of bed. The sun is just starting to peek through his bedroom blinds. It's been a long night of not sleeping, and he's ready to start the day. The first day of the rest of his life. Smiling, he laughs to himself at how dramatic that thought seems, but it can't be more true. After a quick shower and a bowl of Fruit Loops, he decides to go out for a walk. He's wearing his watch with the GPS chip in it, so Sarah and Casey can find him if they need to. As he slowly breathes in the cool morning air, he turns on his iPod and starts humming along with the music.

Sarah is standing alone at the beach. It wasn't hard to find the area where Ellie and Devon's wedding had been the day before. Once she reaches it, she tries to find the exact spot she was standing when she chose a life with Chuck over any other kind of life. There are too many footprints in the sand to be sure that she's standing in that precise place, but she figures she's close enough. After what happened last night, she wants to stand here and make the same promise all over again. Whoever Chuck turns out to be with the new Intersect inside of him, wherever he has to go, she still wants to commit to staying with him. She wants to renew her secret vow to never leave him. She closes her eyes and tries to listen to her heart. It's not easy for her. She's always trying to hide from her deepest emotions. But the longer she stands there in the early morning air, the more confident she is about how she feels. Even though so many things have changed since she stood here just yesterday, her feelings for Chuck have stayed the same. If anything, they've grown. He needs her. She needs him. More than anything else. Whatever challenges are coming their way, they're going to face them together. She's going to make sure of that much.

Filled with a sense of determination, Sarah turns back and starts to walk towards her car. It's time to stop talking so much to herself _about_ Chuck. She needs to talk _to_ Chuck. And even though she's never been good with words, she knows that her words are what he needs to hear. Words that finally tell him clearly how she really feels about him. She starts the engine and heads the black Porsche in the direction of his apartment. A few moments later, her phone rings. Her heart lifts at the thought of hearing Chuck's voice, but the image on her phone is Casey. Sighing, she picks up. "This is Walker. Secure."

"Get over to Castle. You, me, and Bartowski have a lot to figure out."

"Casey, I don't think that's the best idea. Give me some time to help Chuck sort out his feelings about what happened to him last night before we go to work on a plan." Sarah knows it's a long shot, but she has to try.

"Look, Walker, the last thing I'm gonna do is wait while the two of you share your lady feelings. Last night was a game-changer. And do I need to remind you that in the game we play, people tend to wind up dead? Get here now. Bartowski's already secured. I picked him up 10 minutes ago." Sarah hears a click. Casey's gone.

She shakes her head, slams her hand on the steering wheel, and lets out a frustrated sigh. She's angry that Casey's pushing things forward so fast. Chuck needs some space and a little time. Sarah knows it, and Casey should know better, even if he doesn't.

Nine minutes and twenty-three seconds later, she pulls into a parking spot in front of the Orange Orange. Glancing around the nearly empty parking lot, she unlocks the glass door and walks to the freezer. After scanning her eye and thumbprint, the blast door to the Castle slides open with a sharp hiss. Walking down the stairs, Sarah catches her first glimpse of Chuck. He flashes her one of his trademark smiles, and she can tell it's genuine. He looks good. Really good. He looks like himself. Relieved, her heart warms as she discovers that Chuck, _her Chuck_, is still there. The new Intersect may have changed all kinds of things about him, but not his essential goodness. Not his heart. At least not yet.

Fighting to hold onto her emotions, she smiles widely at him and wants nothing more than to reach out and take him in her arms. Instead, under Casey's watchful eyes, she settles for sitting down in the chair next to him and gently touching his hand. Still smiling, Chuck grazes her wrist lightly with his fingers. She wishes they could be alone right now more than anything, but that's not going to happen. She reluctantly pulls her hand away to keep things appearing somewhat professional between them.

"About time you got here, Walker. Bartowski, how are you doing after everything?" _Casey looks and sounds as tired as I feel_, Chuck thinks to himself. He can sense both Casey and Sarah staring at him intensely, waiting for his answer. He's trying to put his confusing emotions into the right words, but the look of sheer joy that Sarah just had on her face when she saw him is still distracting him.

She interrupts his daydream by simply saying his name… "Chuck?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to keep you guys waiting like that. I feel…I feel really good, to be honest. Pretty tired, but good. I mean, my head isn't pounding. I guess I'm a little sore from my, uh, my Kung Fu moves last night, but nothing a few Advil can't handle."

Casey nods. "Good. Now what about any sudden urges or strange impulses? Have you been different in your behavior since last night? Are you feeling completely in control of your actions?"

"What are you talking about Casey? I didn't flash on anything, since last night in the Intersect room, if that's what you mean." Frowning, Chuck pauses for a second and then asks, "What do we actually know about this new Intersect? Have either of you spoken with Beckman yet? It seems pretty important for me, for us, to know what to expect."

"I just got off a video conference with her," Casey responds. "It sounds like she's pretty confused about everything herself. She was aware that the new Intersect included additional software encryption that should enable you to access survival information when you need it the most, but she's as shocked as any of us to find out that the new Intersect can give you physical skills on demand. She thought you'd be able to access files on how to pick a lock or jump start a car…but nothing like going from a nerd from the Buy More to Neo from the Matrix in a split second. Her only guess is that very special brain of yours has taken things to the next level…again."

Chuck, groaning at Casey's explanation, asks, "So what you're basically telling me is that we're back to square one in terms of knowing exactly how this freaking computer in my head's gonna work, how it's gonna affect me, right? I mean, it sounds like Beckman is nervous that the new Intersect software could take control of my body anytime, anyplace. It sounds like maybe I can't even trust myself…you know…to be…me."

"I don't think you _can _trust yourself, Bartowski, I don't think any of us can completely trust you until we know what we're dealing with here. You seriously wounded three of those men last night and killed two. We need to know what might set you off next time. _I_ need to know." Casey's voice sounds harsh as usual, but Chuck thinks he sees a bit of compassion in the big man's eyes. But maybe it's only his imagination.

"Chuck…we're going to get through this as a team, I promise." Sarah reaches out for Chuck's hand as she tries to make him feel better. As comforting as those words should be, they aren't what Chuck wants to hear from her at the moment. She can see it in his eyes. She clears her throat and continues, "So things are going to be a little more…complicated. So what? We know how to deal with complicated; it's what we've been dealing with for almost two years now." Sarah wishes she knew something better to say, but the words just won't come. It really doesn't matter, though, because just then, Chuck lets go of her hand, stands up from his chair, and walks away from the two agents. When he reaches the blank computer screens on the wall, he turns back around to face them.

"Why in the hell is my life always so freaking 'complicated'…and why isn't there a better word to describe it? I'm sick and tired of thinking and telling everyone that my life is complicated. When I put my hand on that screen last night, I don't know, I guess I thought that this new Intersect would have all the bugs of the old one worked out and smoothed over…I thought that I'd be even better at helping you guys save the world. But now, I don't know…I didn't mean to kill those men. I didn't realize that's what was going on. It was an accident…a horrible accident. I was just trying to save you."

Chuck is fighting – with everything in him – the temptation to let the tears that are quickly forming in the corners of his eyes to fall, when the door to the Castle unexpectedly slides open. The three of them look up to see who's walking through the doorway.

It's General Beckman. With six armed guards. She issues a single command. The guards start to move quickly towards them. Casey, Sarah, and Chuck can't believe their ears. This can't be happening.

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Please, leave a review! I'm begging you. I'll try to get chapter 2 posted quickly regardless, but reviews would definitely help motivate me.


	2. Chapter 2

All the standard disclaimers. I don't own Chuck. All mistakes are my own.

As I mentioned in the first chapter, this is my very first attempt at creating a fanfic, so please let me know what you think of it so far in the review section. It would really mean a lot to me.

I want to thank all of you who have already left reviews…they're really helpful!

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**Chapter 2**

"Place the asset in the holding cell. Immediately."

Before Beckman even finishes giving the order, Chuck feels his eyes begin to glaze over and roll back in his head, but then, they stop. He needs to see clearly, right now, this instant, and the new Intersect software apparently detects this need. The flash is still taking place, but instead of seeing only colors and images and words, he suddenly sees everything in the room around him in startling, crystal clear detail. His mind, aided by the new software, is apparently racing so quickly it's like the entire world around him is moving in slow-motion.

He looks over at Sarah and sees the shock in her eyes, an involuntary response to hearing Beckman's arrest order. He glances over at Casey, who is looking back at him, just starting to pull a tranq gun out of the waistband of his jeans. Finally, Chuck looks up at the six guards approaching him, still in what feels like slow-motion to him, holding a tight attack formation with each one of them aiming a tranq gun directly at his chest.

In less than a nanosecond, three different attack strategies materialize in Chuck's field of vision. The information and diagrams are somewhat transparent and seem to be floating in the air in front of his eyes, like a heads-up display in one of his favorite video games. None of the visual information is directly blocking the "slow" moving action in front of him.

He reviews the first option. Too risky. According to the Intersect data, the Glock 23 sidearm that Beckman is holding at her waist is fully loaded. Consequently, there's an 87% chance that he will kill four of the six guards, a 73% chance that he'll severely wound Beckman, and a 46% chance that he will be fatally wounded himself. The second option isn't much better. The third option involves Casey's tranq gun and no killing.

That's the one.

Chuck's life isn't directly at risk (at least not until he initiates an attack), and more importantly to him, neither Sarah nor Casey are in danger of being killed. Unless they try and do something foolishly heroic. But something tells Chuck that it'll all be over before they can react. As soon as he mentally selects the third attack strategy, Chuck senses the Intersect software take control of his body.

He feels himself race towards Casey, and as he does, it occurs to Chuck that his body must be moving as fast as his accelerated thought process, because everyone else still seems to be stuck in a slow-motion time warp compared to him. He grabs Casey's tranq gun from the agent's strong grip and shoves Casey to the ground. Chuck spins and aims the gun at the guard closest to him. The guard pulls the trigger, and Chuck watches in amazement as he clearly sees the tranquilizer dart leave the barrel and start to head towards him. His mental heads-up-display system instantly shows Chuck both the speed and the trajectory path of the dart.

He steps smoothly and safely to the side and fires. Six times. A visual targeting program that launched the moment Chuck grabbed the tranq gun allows him to aim with unbelievable accuracy. He watches as each one of his darts hits their intended victim. In the throat.

As Beckman's armed protectors start to fall to the ground, she begins to raise her very real, very loaded gun at him. He feels himself reach her before she can pull the trigger and then his hands are skillfully disarming her, quickly hitting her over the head with the handle of her own weapon. She starts to sink towards the floor, unconscious.

That's when the flash finally ends, and time starts moving at normal speed again for Chuck.

Sarah can't believe it. She's still sitting in her chair. In the course of four seconds, she's just watched Chuck steal Casey's tranq gun, tranquilize six guards, and then disarm and knock out General Beckman. The awkwardness she noticed in his martial arts moves the night before is gone. Last night, the sudden and unexpected change in Chuck was more than a little bit scary to her, but this morning, his amazing repeat performance is nothing short of totally and completely…breathtaking.

As she looks around the Castle floor, she can't get over just how quickly Chuck disabled what have to be the NSA's finest personal bodyguards. Each one of them sleeping soundly on the ground, with a red dart sticking out of their throats, plunged directly into their carotid arteries…the single most effective location on the human body for the darts' sedative to work as fast as possible.

When she glances up, she notices Casey, now standing, making the same startling observations. Shaking his head, he looks towards Chuck. Casey figures out what's coming next before Sarah does. She can see the shock in the big man's eyes. And then she watches as two red darts strike him in the left shoulder. As he slumps over onto the steel table in front of him, Chuck walks towards him, regret and sorrow pooling in his brown eyes. "I'm sorry Casey. I really am. But I can't have you trying to stop me. I guess…I guess you were right not to trust me."

Sarah doesn't want to believe that Chuck is actually saying these things, really thinking these thoughts, but she knows he's right. He has to run. If he wants to stay out of a bunker after what he's just done to Beckman, he has to disappear. That's going to be virtually impossible to do when you're as important to the government as Chuck is, but with his new Intersect skills, he may actually have a chance. Maybe. Sarah watches as Casey's limp body slides from the table to the floor.

Chuck turns to look at her, placing the tranq gun on the table in between them. She can see the weight of disappointment he's carrying in his heart. She can see the fear and the self-doubt he's feeling. She stares back at him with those deep, clear blue eyes of hers that always get to him, and she says the only thing she can say. "I'm going with you, Chuck."

He starts moving gently in her direction. "Sarah…do you know what you're really saying when you say those words? You're saying that you're going to run…again…risking not just your job, but your life. Beckman's never going to overlook this kind of thing a second time."

"Chuck, I know what I'm saying, I know what I'm risking. It's my job to protect you, even from the government that gave me that job. I…" Chuck stops just inches from her. His nearness interrupts her.

"That's not true, Sarah. It's not your job to protect me from _them_. That's never been what they want from you, and you know it. I don't care what they say. I don't care what Beckman thinks. I'm not just an asset anymore. I'm not just the poor unlucky bastard who was sent an email that forced me into a life I never asked for. Not anymore. Ever since last night, I'm the normal, everyday guy who believed you when you told me that I could actually be a hero. I'm the guy who decided to become something more than ordinary when I downloaded the new Intersect. I'm the guy who made the choice to live in your world because it's the only way I can think of for me to be around you, to share any kind of life with you. If I ever manage to get all this sorted out with Beckman and the NSA and the CIA and whoever else I just pissed off, we'll finally be able to save the world together, no secrets, no covers, no lies. But it's never going to be about the job for me. It's always going to be about you, Sarah. You."

Fighting back tears, Sarah can hardly breathe. Why is he so damn good at saying just the right thing at just the right moment? How does he always manage to say what she wishes she'd said first? She gives it a shot anyway. "Chuck, I don't mean I want to go with you just because of the job…I know that's what I said, but that's not what I meant. I guess I've just been fighting for so long against admitting this thing that's been happening between us, I have a hard time saying it, even when I want to. Look, Chuck, I want to go with you because I need to be with you. I want to run with you because if you leave me alone, I don't know what I'll do…I'll go crazy. I want to go with you because, Chuck….I…"

At that very moment, she feels a small sharp pain in the base of her neck. While she'd been speaking to him, Chuck had been tenderly touching her face and softly running his fingers through her hair. And, just a second ago, she'd noticed him gently rubbing the back of her neck. She can't believe that he'd used his affectionate touch to distract her from what he was really about to do. Tranquilize her. Just like the guards. Just like Casey.

She tries to speak, but the words just won't come. Her mouth simply won't obey her attempts to talk.

Chuck holds her close in his arms and whispers in her ear, "Sarah, I love you. I've loved you since the moment you laughed on our first date and told me that you liked me. And I guess I've loved you more every single day. I…I've never been exactly sure of how much you feel for me, how much of it's real and how much of it's me hoping that it's real…and that's okay, it's okay. But if your feelings for me are just a little of what I feel for you…I can't let you run with me. I can't let you risk your life for me, not this way. Sarah, I'm gonna miss you more than you'll ever know, but at least I can be sure you aren't going to get hurt because of me. I'll come back for you. I promise."

Chuck tucks a few golden strands behind Sarah's ear and leans in to kiss her. The moment his lips touch hers, she closes her eyes. He smells good. He feels warm. He tastes like…him. She tries her hardest to memorize every detail about this moment, but her mind is steadily slipping away from her. He gently lowers her onto the floor, takes off his black Buy More jacket, and carefully places it under her head. He lightly strokes her cheek and gives her one more soft kiss.

After that, everything goes dark.

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Casey wakes up first. Feeling groggy and more than a little bit angry, he looks around the room. All six guards are still where he last saw them, with Beckman collapsed on the stairs…a red dart sticking out of her shoulder. He grunts.

Bartowski certainly covered all the bases on his way out. Nothing surprising there. What _is_ surprising though, is that Walker is unconscious on the ground in front of him, apparently left behind with the rest of them. Casey fully expected her to be gone with Bartowski; and he's sure that she would be if the nerd had given her the choice. Which means, of course, that Walker's going to be as angry as he's ever seen her when she finally wakes up.

He walks over to the main computer and starts trying to review what the security cameras recorded. He finds that the last thirteen hours are missing from the video files, not only from the Castle cameras, but from the cameras in the Orange Orange, the Buy More, the mall parking lot, and Bartowski's apartment. No audio either. Bartowski really was covering his tracks well.

Casey walks over to the armory to find that several items are missing. A tranq gun and three boxes of darts. One H&K MP5 submachine gun with a silencer attachment, a Desert Eagle 357 handgun, 16 flash grenades, 22 smoke grenades, one full set of black body armor with black fatigues, two covert electronic surveillance kits, and an NSA equipped laptop computer…are all gone. It's obvious that Bartowski isn't planning on being placed in a secured underground facility anytime soon. Casey almost smiles. Almost.

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The last twelve hours have been the most frightening of Chuck's life, and considering how his life's gone for the past two years, that's saying something. He's been shot at, dangled off the edge of buildings, thrown into trunks, tortured (okay, almost tortured), poisoned…and that doesn't cover the half of it. But nothing he's experienced so far has prepared him for the overwhelming fear he feels right now.

During all his other death-defying adventures, he always had Casey and Sarah on his side, protecting him, helping him, and now, now they'll be hunting him…along with all the other cold-blooded assassins that Beckman will surely be sending his way the moment she regains consciousness.

Chuck isn't at all confident that he can do this on his own. He's almost gone back two different times to get Sarah, but both times, he was able to calm himself down enough to remember why he left her there.

The night before, he'd chosen to be a spy so that he could be with her, and Beckman had been about to take that chance away from him. He isn't about to be a spy apart from Sarah. And if he gets locked up in a bunker or some other kind of holding cell, there's absolutely no possibility of them being together, no hope for a life they can share. His only chance is to run and hide long enough to make Beckman realize how good of an agent he'd make, now that the new Intersect is inside him. If she can see just how skilled he is at avoiding her best agents, maybe she'll see his true potential and take him back and make him a full-fledged agent.

Chuck knows how crazy that idea sounds, even to himself, he realizes just how many things have to go exactly right for it to all turn out that way, but it's all he's got.

He's taken everything that matters to him from his room. Well, everything that can fit in a small black duffel bag, anyway. His favorite T-shirts, his dad's black suit, the Intersect diagrams that his dad had given him just a few weeks ago. A couple of favorite pictures of his sister Ellie and Devon. His Stanford diploma. And of course, the photo from Halloween when Sarah wore that amazing Princess Leia slave costume just for him, to give him…"something real," she'd said. He smiles sadly. It seems like such a long time ago. The last item he places in the bag is a plain white envelope with his first name in her handwriting on the front, the envelope that she'd handed him the night she told him that she'd finally found his long lost father. The envelope that contained the coordinates for the exact physical location of Stephen Bartowski's trailer. It's as close to a love letter as she's ever written him.

Chuck takes off his watch with the GPS tracking chip in it, leaves it on his bedside table, and slowly walks down the darkened hallway and out the door of the apartment that used to be his home.

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Sarah wakes up alone in her hotel room. For a second, she wonders if the last thing she remembers is all just a bad dream, she wonders if this is the morning after Ellie and Devon's wedding, the morning after Chuck downloaded the new Intersect. But only for a second. She knows it's not the first morning, but the one after it. And she knows that Chuck's gone. He left her. He left her behind.

He finally told her that he loved her, and then he disappeared. After everything they've been through, all the times she's pushed him away, all the chances she's wasted to help him understand how much she cares about him, he loves her. What did she ever do to deserve that kind of devotion? Nothing. Chuck's been loyal to her, he's given his heart to her, not because of anything good in her; he's done it out of the goodness inside of him. He's the kindest, gentlest, best man she's ever known. And now he's gone. Holding onto her pillow, Sarah feels the ache of his absence in her heart, and it makes her want to crawl back under the covers and cry.

But before she can give in to her passing moment of weakness, she hears a knock at the door. It can't be Chuck, but she wants it to be him so much, she's trembling as she reaches to open the door.

It's Casey.

"Walker." No emotion, as usual, in his voice.

"John." Her voice sounds small and scared, which is very unusual for her.

She looks like hell.

"Well, are you gonna let me in, or are we gonna waste even more precious time while your computer genius boyfriend gets farther and farther away?" She slowly steps aside to let him in. Casey walks through the doorway and continues, "You're welcome for dragging you here and dropping you off on your own bed, by the way. I got some pretty strange stares in the lobby last night."

He starts pacing immediately. Sarah sinks down into one of the soft green chairs by the window. She gazes out at the L.A. skyline absentmindedly. "You've been asleep for something like 21 hours, Walker. 12 of those hours were the tranq dart…the other hours, well, it seems like maybe you're slipping a little."

"Casey, just shut up and tell me the situation. I can handle it. Don't treat me like I'm weak, just because I'm scared for him." She looks down at her own hands, rubbing them together nervously. She is scared for him. As scared as she's ever been in her life.

He grunts. "I've never considered for a moment that you're weak, Walker. Just careless. With your feelings."

She offers him no response.

Casey clears his throat and begins the official report. "Anyway, here's what we know so far. And don't get excited; it's not much. Bartowski walked out of Castle just over 20 hours ago with enough weapons and equipment to fight his own private war for a month, at least. He took one of the laptops with our encryption software on it, so if he finds a way to access the network without alerting our tech guys, he'll know every move we make within our database. Search fields, locations, aliases, any communication between agents…he'll know just about everything. He erased all the video and audio recordings from all our recon locations for a 13-hour time span yesterday. His GPS watch is sitting in his room. The only thing we know for sure is that he emptied out his bank account about 40 minutes after he tranquilized everyone at Castle. But he used the Buy More ATM to do it, so that doesn't help us know where he went next." Casey suddenly laughs. "Do you know how long it must have taken Bartowski to get 22,000 out of that ATM in 300 dollar intervals? I had no idea those things held that much cash."

Sarah shoots Casey a confused look. "22,000 dollars? I thought Chuck only had something more like 2000 dollars."

"He did, until two nights ago. And then, some unknown generous benefactor flooded his account with fresh funds."

Sarah smiles. "Orion."

"Has to be," Casey responds. "What that means, of course, is that…"

"Chuck won't be using a traceable credit or debit card anytime soon," Sarah interrupts.

"Exactly."

Sarah stands up and starts pacing the floor on her own. She starts thinking out loud. "So he's gone. Without a trace. Do we have any surveillance footage of him on a bus or in a train station? What about airports? A convenience store? Anything?"

"No. He hasn't been spotted anywhere, not yet. I'd have woken you up immediately if we'd caught so much as a glimpse of him." Pausing for a moment, Casey starts walking towards the door. "You and I have a meeting with Beckman in 30 minutes. You'd better get yourself cleaned up and pulled together, Walker. I'm two floors down, directly beneath you. The NSA let my lease on the apartment go, so I'll be here at the hotel for the foreseeable future. Come down when you're ready and I'll drive you to Castle."

She nods without looking at him and starts walking towards the bathroom.

"And Sarah…?" The sound of her first name coming quietly out of Casey's mouth stops her in her tracks. "We have to find him before Beckman sends out a kill order. Time is running out, but there's time. We can still save him."

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Please, leave a review! I can't tell you how much they mean to me. Chapter 3 is actually already nearing completion, but I still have time to make a few review-based adjustments.


	3. Chapter 3

7

All the standard disclaimers. I don't own Chuck. All mistakes are my own.

As I mentioned in the first chapter, this is my very first attempt at creating a fanfic, so please let me know what you think of it so far in the review section. It would really mean a lot to me.

I want to thank all of you who have already left reviews…they are really helpful!

----------

**Chapter 3**

General Diane Beckman is sitting alone at the Castle briefing table waiting on agents Casey and Walker to arrive. Carefully groomed and dressed in her ever-present dark blue uniform, she's already sent her six armed guards back to their base of operations in D.C. The fact of the matter is they aren't worth anything as long as she's up against Bartowski. He'll just get around them again when push comes to shove.

She's still struggling to get her mind around exactly what happened yesterday and what to do about it. It's clear to her now that she'd made a crucial error in judgment when she'd ordered the asset to be placed in lockdown. She knew, walking into it, that Bartowski would feel betrayed and angry beyond words, and he had every right to feel those emotions.

But she also knew that she desperately needed time to figure out exactly what had happened to him in that Intersect room, what kind of skills and abilities he had downloaded, and since she didn't trust him (or anyone else , for that matter), she wanted him locked in a bulletproof room at a safe distance. Not forever…just long enough to figure out precisely what she was now dealing with. Yesterday, she'd been counting on the asset's mild manner and gentleness to be a huge advantage in peacefully securing him.

She'd been wrong.

Beckman's years of training and experience are telling her to stop thinking it over and just have Bartowski hunted down and killed like the dangerous rogue asset that he is…but something in her gut is telling her that there has to be a better way with a more attractive strategic outcome. She's never seen anyone move that fast with that kind of skill and precision. Never. Nine armed people in a room, at least six of them on her side, and he managed to take them all out in less than four seconds. Without suffering so much as a scratch.

It seemed almost…super human. She wants – no, _she needs_ – that man on her side. Not rotting in some unmarked grave.

She has to find a way to reach out to Bartowski, to calm him down, and work him back into the fold. If she sends out her best assassins and has him killed, she will at the same time be destroying the single most important intelligence agent ever created. Created. Not only by God, but also by a brilliant computer scientist named Stephen Bartowski. _Created by Orion_. And not even Orion could have anticipated just how well his new Intersect computer would work inside of his own son. It was never designed to be downloaded into Charles. It was intended to be downloaded into Agent Bryce Larkin.

But none of that matters anymore. All that matters is getting Chuck Bartowski back alive, and recruiting him to follow her orders, and her orders alone. There is no doubt that the key to that is Walker.

Bartowski's as in love with her as a man can be in love with a woman. Walker cares deeply for him in return. Beckman's known this truth for a long time. It's been a huge gamble to allow an agent and an asset to develop the level of emotional connection that exists between those two, but so far, it's allowed Beckman to use Walker in ways that keep Bartowski under control. And now, all the risk along the way is about to pay off.

Charles Bartowski is Beckman's guaranteed way to ensure that the U.S. intelligence network completely and totally dominates the world. And the poor kid doesn't even know it yet.

Beckman smiles to herself with a predatory gleam shining in her eyes.

----------

Chuck is so tired he can barely keep his eyes open.

He's been driving for over 12 hours. He's actually kind of surprised the car's made it this far without breaking down. Half a day ago, the new Intersect software had informed him which car along the street outside his apartment was the best one to steal in order to stay as inconspicuous as possible to all national law agencies, but Chuck just couldn't bring himself to steal Mr. Crow's silver '03 Honda Accord. He liked the old man too much.

Plus, it would've only been a matter of hours until the stolen car was reported, providing Beckman with just the kind of break she needs to find him. So instead, he'd walked around the neighborhood for about 30 minutes until he found a pretty beat-up looking black '98 Honda Civic with a "For Sale" sign in the window for $2500. He paid cash to the thrilled former owner and went back to his apartment and got everything he'd packed for his trip. The black duffel bag with his clothes and personal items in it, and two huge suitcases with his private portable armory stuffed inside.

That all seems like forever ago now. Since then, he's passed through Barstow, Needles, Flagstaff, and Albuquerque.

He smiles at the thought of Barstow. An ugly town where something beautiful almost happened between him and Sarah. Almost.

He'd had the hardest time going to sleep that night in that filthy little motel room they'd landed in. She was so close to him, her warmth, her presence. He'd laid there, wondering why they were both holding back; no one else was watching or listening. No one else would ever know. He'd wondered why he was too afraid to reach out and touch her shoulder and pull her gently closer. He'd wondered why she was willing to risk everything for him, but was unwilling to talk about having any kind of future together.

"One mission at a time, Chuck" she'd said with nervousness in her eyes. He'd thought she wanted what he wanted, he'd thought she wanted more, but he just couldn't be as sure as he needed to be, not sure enough to do much of anything about it, anyway. So he'd just stared up at the dark ceiling and tried his best to quiet his heart and empty his mind so that he could finally fall asleep.

At some point, it must've worked, because he woke up the next morning, disoriented and wondering how and when Sarah had managed to get so close to him without him noticing. She was facing away from him, and Chuck had an arm draped across her body. She was snuggled up to him…every inch of her pressed against every inch of him. And then, she had started caressing his hand, and then, well then, Sarah had been the one who'd made the first move. She turned suddenly to face him, and that's when the best kissing experience of his life started.

For once, Chuck wasn't left wondering if Sarah wanted something as much as he did. In the moment, it all seemed too good to be true, like a dream. But when Chuck rushed to the bathroom and found, not a condom in his wallet, but that infuriating IOU note from his careless best friend, it turned into a cruel nightmare. Smiling, Sarah had said she'd wait in the bed for him, that she wasn't about to go anywhere, but then Casey showed up and Fulcrum attacked, and it all just kind of fell apart.

Shaking his head at the memory, Chuck wishes she was with him, here and now, but he still feels absolutely certain that he's made the right decision in running without her. And yet, as right as that decision may be, it's a painful one. He misses her. Her deep blue eyes, her brilliant white smile, her glowing golden hair, the soothing sound of her voice, the light smell of lavender hovering in the air around her, the comforting warmth of her touch.

He misses everything about her. He might manage to stay away from her long enough to sort all of this mess out, but he knows that it's just a matter of time before he gives in and goes back to her. Which is all the more reason that he has to find a way, a fast way, to fix all of this; he has to find a way to be with Sarah without bringing danger to her doorstep…no deception, no lies, no one hunting them down.

Chuck pulls the beat-up little black Civic into the parking lot of a small roadside diner in Las Vegas, New Mexico. It looks like a chrome-plated railroad car, complete with a red neon sign. Jerry's Café. He'd passed through Santa Fe about an hour ago, but he'd been afraid that some random security camera might pick him up in a larger town, so he kept driving until he knew he needed gas. Now he's in a Las Vegas he's never heard of, apparently a bustling metropolis of 14,565 people, according to a sign on the side of the road.

He slowly gets out of the car and stretches his tired back, letting out a small groan. He can't remember ever being quite this sore before. Maybe the physically demanding Kung Fu moves from a couple days ago are finally catching up with him.

He starts to walk towards the diner. Pancakes sound really good right about now.

----------

Sarah is silent on the car ride over to Castle. Casey doesn't say anything either. Both of them are lost in their own troubled thoughts. They have to get Chuck back, before things get any worse. Neither of them wants to think about the alternative. Casey pulls into a parking space in front of the Orange Orange, and less than a minute later, both of them are walking down the steel entry stairs to Castle's main room.

General Beckman is sitting alone at the table. She looks up. "Good Morning agents. I'm glad you're here." She crisply gestures for them to take a seat.

Sarah and Casey sit down immediately, directly across the table from Beckman. Looking carefully at both of them, she clears her throat. "Let's just get right to it. If you two don't find Bartowski in the next 48 hours, I am going to be forced to send out a kill order to eliminate him. Frankly, I don't trust either of you to actually follow that order, so just know that one of our top assassins will be given that particular task. Your task is to do your very best to make sure the kill order never goes out. I can't have the single most important piece of intelligence in the world running loose where I can't find him."

A flash of furious anger courses through Sarah's body and through clenched teeth she replies, "General, with all due respect, Chuck is a person…not a piece of intelligence. He's a person. You always seem to forget that."

"Agent Walker," Beckman responds with obvious irritation in her voice, "While I do not share the kind of feelings you seem to have developed for the asset, I do agree with you that Bartowski is much more important than a piece of intelligence. In fact, I'd argue that he's more important than a person. He's certainly more important than you or I…more important than all of us put together. Get him back before I am forced to take his life."

Casey grunts, and then asks, "When we do find him and bring him back to you, what are you going to do with the most important man alive? Thank him for knocking you unconscious and give him a medal? Or is he going to live out the rest of his life in some undisclosed location underground?"

Smirking, Beckman explains, "You two let me worry about what happens to him in the future. I can tell you this much, we're going to take him and turn him into the best covert operative the world has ever seen. We're going to train him to use that billion dollar computer system in his head; we're going to help him unlock all the potential he's now carrying inside him without even knowing it. We're going to…"

"You're going to change him," Sarah suddenly interrupts. "You're going to ruin him. Take away his goodness. You're going to turn him into a soulless killing machine that does whatever you order him to do."

"Exactly, Agent Walker. I don't think I could have said it better myself." Beckman smiles with a proud confidence that makes Sarah want to dive across the table and choke the life out of her. "You have 48 hours, starting now, to bring him in unharmed. After that, I'm afraid the next time you'll see him is in a body bag. You are dismissed."

----------

Sarah steps back into her hotel room and closes the bright green door. Casey is two floors down in his own room, pulling a few last-minute things together. They are planning on leaving in exactly 22 minutes. All she can think about as she rushes around the room throwing clothes onto the bed is just how much she wishes she knew how to find Chuck. They have to find him before anyone else does. _She_ has to. Before something terrible happens to him. Before she loses him.

Blinking away angry tears, she runs to her closet, throws open the doors, and drops to her knees. Using one of her throwing knives, she pries back the carpet from the back right corner of the closet. Sighing with relief, she sees the envelope she'd hidden there, laying where she left it. She pulls out the envelope and opens it, finding the two sets of passports, birth certificates, and social security cards she had enclosed. Two new identities for her and Chuck. Identities that no one else knows anything about. Not even Chuck. She takes a black shirt off a hanger and carefully folds it over the documents, and puts the shirt in her bag. She starts to bury it under the other clothes she's bringing.

She opens a drawer on her nightstand to grab the old worn-out grey Stanford T-shirt she stole from Chuck months ago to sleep in. He's never asked her about it going missing, which means he either doesn't care much about it, or he knows exactly why it's gone missing and he cares too much about her to embarrass her by asking about it. She'd bet anything that he cares and he knows and he just hasn't asked. Closing her eyes, she lifts it up to smell it, to smell him, that wonderful mixture of his detergent and his deodorant and his own personal scent that always reminds her of cinnamon for some reason. She opens her eyes to put it in her bag, and that's when she sees it.

A note. A single, solitary white piece of paper, folded neatly in half.

It had been placed out of sight under the Stanford shirt at the very bottom of the drawer. Her name is on it, and it's in Chuck's handwriting. _Sarah_. Her hand trembles as she reaches down to pick it up. She sits down on the edge of her big white bed and holds the folded paper close to her chest and closes her eyes.

_Please let this tell me how to find him, please._ It's the first prayer she's prayed since she was a little girl, and she's never wanted God to hear her more in her entire life.

Lowering the note, she unfolds it.

_Sarah - I don't know when you're going to find this, but I sure hope it's sooner rather than later. I'm so sorry that I left you behind, but I didn't know what else to do. If something bad happened to you because of me, I'd never be able to forgive myself. I want you to know that I meant what I said when I told you that I love you. I will find a way back to you. I already miss you more than I can say. Be safe. – Chuck_

_p.s. – I think I've decided that maybe red isn't such a bad color on you after all._

Her heart racing, Sarah runs back to her closet and pulls out the red dress she hasn't worn since Chuck had told her (on a mission with her ex-lover super agent Bryce Larkin) that he wasn't really into red, or salmon, or whatever the color of her dress happened to be. She can still taste the bitterness of that moment as she thinks back on it. She'd been wearing that dress to impress Chuck, not Bryce, and when he commented that it wasn't really his favorite, Chuck's off-handed words had cut her more deeply than they should have.

From that day on, she had avoided wearing red if she was going to see Chuck. It wasn't like she'd made a formal decision about it; she just never seemed to feel like wearing any of her red clothes much anymore.

Especially not the dress she is now holding. She starts to look inside of it, searching for any clue she can find, and then she sees it, duct-taped close to the middle of the length of the dress. It's a small black box. It's about two inches tall and three inches wide, less than half an inch thick. It reminds her of a beeper. She pulls it off of the inside folds of the dress and brings it out into the light.

In the middle of the front of the box, there's a small screen filled with red digital numbers. 6:45:36…6:45:35…6:45:34…

It's clearly a countdown timer of some kind, but a countdown to what? Sarah's mind starts racing. There's no way that Chuck left her a bomb as a going-away present. It can't possibly mean that he's showing back up in a little more than six hours; he's worked far too hard to disappear.

Does Chuck want her to do something in six hours and forty-five minutes? And if he does, how is she supposed to know what that something is?

----------

Chuck finishes his breakfast, leaves the waitress a nice tip, and starts walking to his car. Driving slowly, he finds a cheap motel a few blocks away. He pays cash for one night and takes his bags to the room. He sets up a small motion detector and a miniature camera just over the motel door.

Chuck smiles. The Intersect knew what it was doing when it suggested he take the two surveillance kits from Castle. Closing the door, he throws off his rumpled clothes and heads for the shower. The hot water feels good on his sore muscles.

Thirteen minutes later, he's passed out on the bed, lost in sleep.

Chuck doesn't see the black Cadillac pull into the motel parking lot. He doesn't hear the driver speak into a small wrist mic, "I have the target located. I can take him at any time. Just give the order."

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Please, leave a review! I can't tell you how much they mean to me.


	4. Chapter 4

All the standard disclaimers. I don't own Chuck. All mistakes are my own.

This is my first attempt at writing a fanfic, so please let me know what you think of it so far in the review section. I'd really appreciate it. More than words can say.

I want to sincerely thank all of you who've already left reviews…you're the best.

----------

**Chapter 4**

Chuck wakes up in the darkened hotel room he fell asleep in six hours earlier. He sits up and switches on the small lamp on the bedside table. His body is sore. His head is pounding. He slowly stands up and walks over to the sink. He'd give anything for some aspirin right about now. He looks at himself in the mirror. Bags under his eyes. Two days of stubble on his cheeks. His curly brown hair appears to have a life of its own. He's certainly seen better days. Shaking his head, he steps into the small bathroom. Forty seconds later, he flushes and walks back over to the sink and washes his hands. The knuckles are stiff. Punching people as hard as you can tends to have that affect. The cool water feels good.

Finished, Chuck slumps down in the uncomfortable chair next to a small beat-up table with an uneven top in the corner of the room. He needs to sit and think for a moment or two. Here he is, in the middle of nowhere, with absolutely no earthly idea where he's headed. All he knows is that if he quits running, his life is going to be over. Even if he manages to avoid being killed, he'll spend the rest of his days in a bunker, and that's no kind of life. If Chuck could be sure that Sarah would live in that padded prison cell with him, he might be willing to make that sacrifice, but that's never how it's going to be. Even if he could make that sacrifice, he'd never want her to do the same. He would never ask her to give up her freedom to be with him.

So what's next? Does he just keep driving until the Civic breaks down? And what happens when he reaches the East Coast? Is he supposed to just turn around and start back west? Or north? South? It's all too exhausting to even consider. He knows the truth before he ever states it clearly in his head: Running forever isn't going to work. Running isn't a plan; it's the lack of one. There has to be a better way to fix the mess he's made, the mess he's now trapped in. Chuck just can't see it. Not yet.

What he can see, with the eyes of his heart, is Sarah. Gorgeous blue eyes and beautiful blonde hair. A smile that always make him feel like things are going to be okay, even if he knows different. He can see her; he can hear her voice. He can hear her saying the last words she'd spoken to him at Castle. She said she wanted to come with him, told him that she'd go crazy without him. Despite his worry and anxiety, he smiles at the memory. Had the cold and calculating CIA agent actually told him something that honest, something that personally revealing? His smile fades. She could be in this room with him right now. She could hold onto him and assure him that he's not alone.

And that's when he hears it. A small, soft sound behind him that could be explained away for a hundred different reasons, but Chuck knows exactly what that sound means. He's not alone after all.

Someone has bypassed the security system he'd quickly thrown together before he fell asleep, and that someone is now in the room with him, moving towards him. It must have happened while Chuck was in the bathroom a few minutes earlier. Before he has any more time to think, the new Intersect software initiates a flash. Chuck watches as hundreds of images of Brazilian Jujitsu fighting positions and attack combinations, form in his mind. The next thing he knows, he's spinning around to face his attacker. All he can make out in the low light of the room is that the enemy is wearing a black ski mask as well as black partial body armor. Without a sound, the invader launches himself at Chuck.

Chuck, whose mind and body are now moving much faster than any normal person's, easily and smoothly drops to one knee and uses his arms to throw his assailant over his shoulder into the wall behind him. The masked man is fazed by the sudden impact with an immovable object, but quickly recovers and turns on Chuck again. The Intersect software anticipates this possibility, and as a result, Chuck creates as much space as possible between the two of them before the other man can react. Space always creates options.

Chuck, turning to his left, violently tears a wooden closet rod off the wall. Screws and fittings spray in all directions. In less than a second, he powerfully swings the rod into the chest of the enemy agent, hoping to knock the air out of his lungs and neutralize him for a second or two. The blow should have slowed the man down, but the body armor he's wearing evidently lessens the impact of the hit, because he takes the punishment and keeps moving aggressively towards Chuck without any hesitation at all.

Chuck strikes him a number of times, in lightning-quick succession…three hits to the lowers arms, one to the right leg, and one to the side of the head. The combination of the rapid rod strikes successfully knocks the attacker to the floor. Chuck throws himself towards the man and starts to pin him to the ground. If he does this just right, Chuck should be able to force the enemy into a choke hold. If that happens, the Intersect software is calculating that Chuck should be able to choke him out in less than a minute. 32 seconds, to be precise. Chuck's almost in position, when he catches a gleam out of the corner of his eye. A knife appears out of nowhere. Chuck's heart plummets. He'd been hoping to stop this unknown attacker without having to kill him, but the guy's apparently not going to make that easy to do.

And in that precise moment, Chuck's flash stops.

He's on the ground, fighting for his life, and the flash that's supposed to make him nearly invincible in this kind of situation, simply fails. The enemy agent senses the change in Chuck immediately. Instantly, in one full sweep, he slashes the confused and defenseless Nerd Herd manager across the chest and holds the knife to his exposed throat.

----------

The last six hours have been an eternity for Sarah.

She's decided to not tell Casey about the small countdown timer she found hidden in her hotel room…hidden there by Chuck for her to find. The rectangular screen on the front of the beeper-shaped device now reads 0:45:36…0:45:35…0:45:34…

She forces herself to look away from the device and slides it back into the front pocket of her jeans. Sarah's beginning to wonder if she ought to just go ahead and let Casey in on the single clue that Chuck has left them to follow. She's been wracking her brain, trying to figure out what the countdown means, what it's counting down to, but she just can't put the pieces together. Maybe if she lets her NSA partner take a look at it, he'll be able to think of something she's overlooked. Maybe. Maybe not. For now, she still can't bring herself to let Casey in on her and Chuck's little secret. She walks back into the main room of Castle, where they've been trying to find any real trace of where Chuck has disappeared to.

Casey slams his hand on the table out of frustration.

"Walker, we've been through everything. Three times. There's just nothing. No video, no audio, no eye-witness sightings, nothing. I know I said we should take the first 8 to 10 hours to comb through every possible lead we might have here before we start chasing blindly after him, but we're no closer to knowing which direction to take now than we were six hours ago."

Nodding sadly in agreement, Sarah asks, "So what do we do now? You're right, we can't waste any more time here hoping to notice small clue we may've missed before. And we can't just sit here waiting for some random sighting report to tell us what to do next. Chuck isn't going to be sighted. He isn't going to make a mistake. Maybe before the new Intersect upload, but not now. All I know is that time is running out, and we are totally lost." The finality of her own words hits her harder than she expects. Time really is running out, and not just the 48 hours Beckman is giving them, but the 43 minutes on Chuck's countdown clock. _God, what is he getting ready to do? What if he pulls some stunt that gets him hurt or killed?_ Sarah fights to push the dark questions as far from her mind as possible.

Casey walks over towards the wall of computer screens, turning his back to her. He stands there concentrating. After a few seconds, he starts to share what's on his mind. "I think our only chance of figuring out anything at this point, is to get a hold of Bartowski's family. Maybe he's reached out to them. Look, I know it's a long shot, Walker, but it's all we have left."

Sarah hates the idea; the last thing she wants to do is drag Ellie into this mess, but Casey's right. It's the only shot they have at this point. "I'll make the call." She starts to flip through the contact list on her phone when another thought suddenly occurs to her. "Casey, what about Orion?"

A grunt. "Orion? He's gone without a trace, just like his son. How are we supposed to get a hold of him?

Still thinking out loud, Sarah responds, "I know, I know, but what if we go back over to Chuck's apartment and figure out how to turn on that web search program Chuck used to search for Orion in the first place? Chuck never really found Orion with it, but it did help his father find him. Maybe if we got it up and running again, he'd respond. With all the different computers he uses to monitor places around the globe, he has to already know that Chuck is in some kind of trouble. Maybe if he thinks Chuck is reaching out for help, he'll take the risk and reach back."

Another grunt. "Not a bad idea, Walker. Let's go. You can call Ellie on the way."

The two agents grab several bags of equipment and leave Castle as quickly as they can. They throw everything into the backseat of Casey's beloved Crown Vic and start the drive over to Chuck's place. Dreading to do it, but knowing that she has to, Sarah selects Ellie's number on her phone and hits the send button.

It rings four times. Just before it rolls over into voicemail, Sarah hears a click, and then a voice. "Hello? This had better be good…we're on our honeymoon, you know." Ellie's words sound annoyed, but the tone in her voice is light and carefree.

"Hey Ellie, it's me, it's Sarah. I'm really sorry to interrupt your time together there, but I need to ask you if you've heard from Chuck." _This is not going to be easy_.

Panic instantly evident in her voice, Ellie responds, "Chuck? No, no, we haven't heard anything from him. Is something wrong? Is everything okay?"

_Ellie hasn't heard from him. Crap. Nothing more to learn here. Just say something to make her feel better, anything to calm her down._ "No, no, nothing's wrong. It's just that Chuck mentioned he wasn't feeling well yesterday and I haven't heard from him since then. I'm getting ready to go over to the apartment to see if I can to anything to help, but he isn't picking up his phone and I was just wondering if he'd talked to you recently. I don't want to wake him up if he's asleep." _There. That might work…right?_

"You called me on my honeymoon because you didn't want to accidentally wake Chuck up? How sick is he? Are you sure everything's okay? He hasn't done something stupid that you're hiding from me, has he?" Ellie definitely doesn't sound convinced.

_Come on, Walker, you can do this. Ellie just needs to hear something warm and inviting to distract her. _"Well, I…I kind of actually wanted to see if you guys are missing us yet. We sure miss you." _There. That __will__ work._

"Oh…aren't you just so sweet! Devon and I are having a great time, but we've said over and over again how much we wish you and Chuck were here with us. We really need to go on a fun trip together soon."

_We're in the clear. _ "Sounds like a plan. It's time for me to nurse Chuck back to health and let you get back to Devon, so I'll let you go."

"Give Chuck a hug for us, okay Sarah? And let us know if he gets really sick or something."

"I'll do that. But don't worry, I've got it covered. Take care." _I hate lying to her. I absolutely hate it._

"You too, Sarah. Bye."

Casey looks over at Sarah for just a fraction of a second and then looks back at the road. "Well, that certainly wasn't your best moment improvising a cover story. Pretty weak if you ask me. I guess it did the job, though. No info on Chuck from his sis, huh?

Shaking her head, Sarah answers, "No. It looks like Orion may be our last chance. If we can't make contact with him, we're going to just have to take our best guess and start driving. Or flying. I don't know. How are we supposed to find Chuck that way? Why didn't he leave us some way to follow him?" _Why, Chuck? Why didn't you leave more than a stupid timer that makes absolutely no sense to me? Why didn't you tell me enough in your note to let me find you and protect you?_

"Because, Walker, he has the whole world hunting him down, and for all he knows, someone could be following us while we chase after him. If he leads us in the right direction, he could be leading Ring agents right to his door. I don't blame him for disappearing. I just hope he surfaces where we can find him before his 48…well…41 hours run out."

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The afternoon sun is just barely shining a single shaft of light through the small space between the drawn curtains. As the seconds slip by, Chuck is more and more certain that he's going to die in this darkened motel room. The masked man pinning him down, the man holding a knife to Chuck's throat will be the last person Chuck ever lays eyes on. The new Intersect software has failed him.

But then something happens neither of them sees coming. The window above them suddenly shatters. The attacker on Chuck's chest slumps over. A bullet hole sits in the middle of his masked forehead. Warm blood begins to fall onto Chuck's face, and he can't stop himself from retching. Wiping his mouth and sliding away from the dead body as quickly as he can, Chuck looks up in confusion to see the face of the person who has just saved his life.

The wind is gently lifting the curtains, and Chuck has to squint at the glare of the afternoon light that is now filling the room. She is still standing outside, on the other side of the broken window. She's still holding her gun, aiming it into the room. For a second, Chuck is frightened that she's about to shoot him, but as soon as she looks directly at him, she lowers her weapon. Her hair is dark black, and it rests just on her shoulders. She is wearing a long grey trench coat and black leather gloves. Her eyes are the brightest emerald green he's ever seen before. Looking back and forth along the parking lot, she reaches through the window sill, unlocks the door, and steps inside. "Chuck. We have to get out of here. Now."

Chuck doesn't move. None of this makes sense. He did everything he could think of to cover his tracks. Everything. And now, in the middle of nowhere New Mexico, two agents, apparently from two different covert organizations, have found him? He isn't flashing on this woman, whoever she is, but that doesn't make him feel any better. Chuck's pretty sure that the new Intersect software is malfunctioning at the moment. She could be Fulcrum, or part of the Ring, she could be any number of things, and he'd never know it.

"Chuck, we don't have time for this. I know you must have a thousand questions running through that head of yours, but we just don't have time for me to explain everything to you. There are more agents coming to kill you. They'll be here any second. I have to get you out of here and take you to a safe place. I just saved your life from a Ring agent. That's all I have to offer you to ask you to trust me. I know it's not much, but it has to be enough for the moment."

"It's not enough. I can't go with you. I'm not going with you."

Shaking her head, she violently grabs the mask off of the dead enemy agent. Chuck flashes immediately. Images of the dead man's files and reports fill his mind. His name was Robert Jenson. Former DEA agent turned Fulcrum, and then recruited by an unknown covert organization. The flash doesn't tell him directly, but Chuck knows that unknown organization has to be the Ring. Maybe she's actually telling him the truth. But then again…she apparently knows enough about him to think that showing him Jenson's face would cause him to flash. _That can't be good._

"Look, I really, really appreciate the fact that you just saved my life, I really do, but you could be anyone working for any number of bad people who want to use my, my uh, special skill set for their own purposes. How can you expect me to just blindly go with you? I…"

Chuck is interrupted when another masked man silently appears in the window outside.

His female companion sees his eyes shift and spins around, firing her silenced gun. The man falls to the ground.

Pointing her gun at Chuck, through clenched teeth she yells, "We have to get out of here. I'm sorry that you don't understand what's going on. I'm sorry you're forcing me to use a gun to make you do what I'm asking, but that's the way it is. Let's go."

Angry and scared, Chuck throws his shoes on and begins to grab his two black duffel bags.

"Take only one, Chuck. We have no idea what's waiting for us between here and the car." Nodding in understanding, Chuck obeys. Looking at him with her blazing green eyes she whispers. "Stay close."

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Sarah can't stop pacing. She can't stop biting her nails. She can't stop worrying.

Casey managed to find the web search program on Chuck's computer that Chuck used to try and find his father. It's been running for more than a half hour, and so far, they've heard nothing from Orion. She's been walking throughout the apartment, sneaking glances at Chuck's countdown timer device. Casey hasn't left Chuck's room, not wanting to miss any attempt Orion may make to contact Chuck's computer. Sarah steps into the bathroom, closing the door. She pulls the timer out one last time, knowing it's about to run out.

Looking at it, she watches as 0:00:03 becomes 0:00:02 and then 0:00:01 and finally 0:00:00.

The screen goes black. No beeping. Nothing. Sarah wants to scream. Her only hope for the past 6 hours has been that this damn black box was going to tell her something, give her some way to find Chuck. And now, nothing?

But then, she watches as the screen starts to flash a sequence of numbers. 2277869. 2277869. 2277869. Over and over again. This is insane. Chuck has lost his mind. What in the hell does 2277869 mean? Why does he have to make this so hard? _Because, just like Casey said, the whole world is after him._

Without thinking, Sarah walks out of the bathroom, into Chuck's bedroom and throws the timer down on the desk in front of Casey.

Glaring at up at her, he asks, "Walker what the hell is this?"

Refusing to look at him, Sarah stares out the window and confesses, "Chuck left this behind for me in my hotel room. He wanted me to find it. It's some kind of countdown timer, and it just ran out, and now it's flashing a number I don't understand. I know I should have told you earlier, I should have told you the moment I found it, but I…"

Casey interrupts her, standing up and stepping within inches of her. "But now, you need me, even though you don't fully trust me, you need my help so you're letting me in on this intel."

"Yes."

"When is this crap going to stop between us, Walker? We've been stuck in this freaking dance for too long. I don't care for Chuck the same way that you care for him. I'd have to be gay for that. But I care about him. His well-being. His life. I will never betray him. I thought I could choose Beckman over Bartowski with the whole bunker thing a week ago, but I knew when you ran with him, I would've done the same thing." Stepping away from her, Casey picks up the small black device and looks at it.

Quietly, Sarah tries to apologize. "Look, Casey, I'm sorry. I really am. You're absolutely right. I won't make the same mistake again."

"Good, Walker. I'm glad we're clear on at least one thing. Now, two-two-seven-seven-eight-six-nine. What does that number mean? What in the crap is Bartowski trying to tell us?"

Both agents are silent for over a minute, lost in their own thoughts. Without warning, Casey turns and starts walking out the door.

Standing there in shock, Sarah yells, "What are you doing, Casey? We need to stay here and wait for Orion to make contact!"

Casey stops in the hallway and turns around. Smiling, he responds, "Walker, I'm not waiting on Orion. I know where we're going. Chuck's told us exactly what we need to know." Turning back around, he starts walking towards the front door of the apartment.

Following closely behind, Sarah asks in her confusion, "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Look at your phone. Bring up the manual dial screen."

As soon as she does, Sarah sees what Casey has already figured out. Chuck headed west when he ran.

2-2-7-7-8-6-9 just so happens to spell B-A-R-S-T-O-W.

_We're coming, Chuck. I'm coming._

----------

Chuck and the woman, who just saved his life twice, are carefully and cautiously making their way from the door of his ruined motel room across the parking lot. There's no sign that any other Ring agents are present. Yet.

"Which car are we headed for?" Chuck asks quietly.

Nodding to the left, she says, "Just over there. The black Cadillac."

Chuck follows her without a word.


	5. Chapter 5

All the standard disclaimers: I don't own Chuck or any other character in his fictional world. I don't have a beta reader, so all mistakes are my own.

This is my first fanfic, and I honestly never thought I would write one. I've always been more of a reader. So far, it's been a lot of work but, at the same time, also a lot of fun.

The reviews I get along the way are what keep me going, so please leave your thoughts and impressions of the story in the review section for me.

Thanks for trusting me with a small piece of your imagination, and, your time.

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Chapter 5

Speeding aggressively, Casey manages to drive from Burbank to Barstow in just under an hour and 50 minutes. He's been carefully watching the rear-view and side mirrors the entire way, to catch any sign that they're being followed. He hasn't seen anything out of the ordinary. So far.

As he exits Intestate 15, he throws a quick glance at his tired passenger. He's worried about her. She doesn't look good. Sarah notices him studying her, gives him a half-smile and stares out the window again. They've both seen better days. The seasoned agents are on edge, and it's impossible for either of them to hide it…especially from each other. They're doing their very best to try and keep danger as far away from Chuck as possible. The things is, they both know that no matter how hard they try, danger still seems to find the lovable nerd anyway.

Sarah, for her part, is hoping against hope that Chuck is hiding right here in Barstow. She's praying that she'll get to see his kind face, his soft brown eyes, his inviting smile, in the next few minutes. Casey's told her more than once over the last hour that he thinks Chuck is leading them, slowly and deliberately, to him; that Barstow is just the first breadcrumb in a list of clues, but Sarah doesn't want that to be true.

They've arrived. Casey pulls the Crown Vic into the nearly empty parking lot of the run-down motel. The motel where he'd finally caught up to Chuck and Sarah when the two of them had been on the run in a desperate attempt to locate and save Chuck's father. That'd been less than a week ago, but as Casey shuts the engine down, he realizes it feels like a month has passed between then and now. Maybe even a year.

Without a word, the two agents step out of the car, each of them holding firmly onto the handles of their guns, still mostly concealed in the waistbands of their pants. They walk quickly and silently to the door of the room where Sarah and Chuck had spent the night. Gently pressing her ear to the door, Sarah listens for any sign of someone inside. She hears nothing. Letting go of the handle of her weapon, and lowering the back of her dark blue shirt over it, she puts a warm smile on her face and knocks twice. No answer. Her smile vanishes. Dropping to one knee, Sarah pulls out a small metal tool and picks the lock. With Casey covering her, she slowly turns the doorknob and opens it.

There's no one waiting for them inside. Her heart relaxing and sinking at the same time, Sarah accepts the fact that the room really is empty. Chuck isn't hiding here, waiting to be rescued. Casey walks in after her and quietly closes the door behind him. Sarah slowly slides down with her back against the wall. Casey cautiously checks under the bed, the bathroom, and the closet. "No one's here, Walker. I'm sorry to say it, but I guess I was right. I was kind of hoping myself, that we'd open the door and find Bartowski cowering under the bed or something. But at least he left us that."

Nodding straight ahead, Casey shows Sarah something she'd missed at first glance. Orion's laptop – the one he'd sent Chuck at the Buy More – is sitting out on the small wooden table across the room for them. Scrambling to her feet, Sarah rushes over to the computer and opens it. As soon as she does, a retinal scan program launches. Two seconds later, the screen is filled with the image of Chuck's face.

He offers a weak smile that fails to reach his eyes, and starts to speak. "Hey Sarah. If you're watching this, then you've figured out the clue I left you to get you to our room in Barstow. And, by now, you know I'm no longer there." Those last few words cause Chuck's expression to turn dark. Sarah reaches out to the touch screen. She runs her finger slowly down the side of his digitally recorded face. Casey clears his throat loudly behind her. She instantly withdraws her hand and places it back in her lap.

The video of Chuck continues. "I was able to watch a feed of Beckman's meeting with you and Casey on the laptop I took from Castle. I know I only have a total of 48 hours before she sends someone to kill me. I guess I kind of figured she'd react something like that, but I honestly thought I'd have more time." Chuck looks down and shakes his head. He slowly looks up at the camera again, a weary look in his eyes. "Look, anyway, the bottom line is, I understand that I'll need your help to get out of this alive before it's all said and done, but I don't want you to have to be a part of this, one second sooner than you absolutely have to. So, I decided to leave you in the dark for a little while. If I've planned this correctly, you should be in Barstow about the time that I have 39 or 40 hours left before Beckman…well, you know. I left this computer behind so that from this point on, we can communicate without anyone else knowing. My father assures me that this laptop is completely untraceable. No known technology of the CIA, NSA, or the Ring can hack into the security he built into this thing. The wrist computer he gave me is linked directly to the laptop. I have the wrist computer with me at all times. I'm going to try and make contact with you through the laptop in the next few hours. Take it with you. Keep heading west. And Sarah…I really hope Casey's with you. We're better as a team." Chuck hesitates for handful of seconds, like he wants to say something more. But he doesn't. The screen on the laptop goes black.

Tears have formed in Sarah's eyes as she's been watching the video of Chuck, and now she's doing everything she can to pull herself together before Casey notices. But when she feels a large, firm hand rest on her right shoulder and give her a gentle squeeze, she loses it. Suddenly sobbing and deeply ashamed that she's letting Casey see her this way, Sarah covers her face with her hands. She has to get herself under control. Casey lets go of her shoulder and sits back down on the bed. Sighing, he says, "Look, just let it out, Sarah. It doesn't get any more real than this. It doesn't get any harder than this. Someone…we…care deeply for is in danger of losing his life. Nothing in our training prepares us to lose someone we love. Nothing."

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Chuck is sitting next to a stranger. A raven haired, green-eyed, gorgeous, stranger_._ Apparently, there's some kind of unwritten rule that average-looking girls need not apply to become covert intelligence agents.

They haven't spoken a word to one another since they got in the car. The woman in the driver's seat is a complete mystery. He hasn't flashed on her, and she obviously isn't interested in filling him in on the details at the moment. As if that isn't confusing enough, she seems to know him…speaks his name and looks at him like they're long-lost friends. Chuck's been in this kind of situation before, where he's trapped with someone who knows all about him, while he knows absolutely nothing about them. It never works out well.

He has to get her to talk, has to make her as comfortable with him as possible, because once that happens, she's bound to make a mistake, slip up, accidentally give him more information than she means to. Chuck may struggle with a lot of things, but getting a cold personality to warm up, well, that, he can do. Distracted, his mind takes him back instantly to the second Christmas he and Sarah shared together, the one where she'd refused to come to his Bartowski Family Christmas, because as she said, "I don't do Christmas." Chuck hadn't been able to believe what he was hearing. It'd felt like a challenge…a challenge he could actually win. With a playful gleam in his eyes, he'd told Sarah, "Prepare to be heart-warmed." She did. And she was.

If "heart-warming" this new, nameless agent will help him see Sarah again, Chuck is more than ready to meet that challenge. Clearing his throat, he glances nervously in her direction. "So, uh, this is a, a really great car. I mean, I'm not much of a car guy, but even I can tell that this is a pretty sweet ride."

No answer. Then, after a moment… "Chuck, this isn't my car. It belongs to the people I work for. It's fine I guess. But if I were going to choose, I'd take a Nissan GT-R. I do like the color on this Caddy, though. Black's always best, if you ask me."

"Yeah, I like black too, although I think I might prefer a Porsche to a Nissan. I don't know."

"You mean you'd prefer the kind of car Sarah used to drive?" The ghost of a smile plays across her face.

Chuck loses his patience. He can't wait any longer to get at least some idea of who this woman is and why she knows so much about him. "Look, how do you know what kind of car Sarah used to drive? How do you know about Sarah, for that matter? How do you know my name is Chuck and not Special Agent Carmichael? How did you know I was staying in that motel room, and how in the hell did you know that those Ring agents were going to find me? You showing up at the precise moment I needed your help…That's some pretty convenient timing, don't you think? Why in the world would I believe for a second that you aren't with them?

"Chuck, I realize how all this looks…trust me. I'd be feeling the same kind of frustration and confusion you're feeling right now, if I were in your position. I can't tell you nearly enough to answer all your questions, but I will tell you a few things…I work for the CIA. I've been working on the Intersect project from the beginning. Well, nearly the beginning. Once Director Graham found out he'd have to play nice with Beckman and the NSA, he formed a secret team of people whose sole purpose was to make sure that the Intersect intelligence data never fell into the wrong hands. We had access to every video feed, every audio recording, everything, related to the Human Intersect Project. I've been watching you since that idiot Doctor Zarnow tried to sell you to the highest bidder. I was listening in when the CIA agent you know as Sarah Walker asked you to trust her, but not to believe that she was always telling you the truth. Whatever the hell that means. If I remember correctly, you'd just 'killed' her chocolate soufflé at a family get together. You were alone together in the bathroom, and you were scared for your life. Which, you should have been, by the way. I can keep going, if you want me to. The 4 hour sandwich debates, the all-night Call of Duty parties, the two times Bryce came back and nearly ruined everything between you and your heart's desire, the time you gave Agent Walker your mother's charm bracelet…"

"No, no, that's enough." Chuck really had heard enough. More than enough. "You've more than proven that you've been watching me and listening in on my private conversations for over two years now. That kind of information would have totally freaked me out back then, but now, I really don't give a crap. That's just how things are." What a horrible truth to have to admit. And accept. He looks out the window feeling sorry for himself, forgetting for a moment that he's trying to get helpful intel out of her.

His kidnapper takes notice. She tries to say something to make him feel better. "It must be pretty hard to be the most important intelligence asset in the world. No privacy. No real freedom. The pressure you must go through every single day. I've watched how you've handled all this, and I've gotta tell you Chuck, you've done better than anyone could have ever asked for…you've done far better than Graham ever dreamed, that's for sure." Her voice carries a softness in it that wasn't there before.

If she's playing Chuck, she's doing one hell of an acting job. He turns to face her once again. "I guess the main thing that isn't adding up for me in your story, is why it's just the two of us in this car, and why you haven't tried to make contact with anyone else at all. You keep mentioning the fact that Director Graham placed you in a team. So…where are your teammates?"

Staring at the road rushing towards them, she answers with a voice just above a whisper. "They're all gone, Chuck. Graham and the other two agents on my team were killed in the explosion of the first beta version of the new Intersect. Well, that's actually not true. The last agent connected to my mission died a few nights ago, trying to save you from all this."

"Bryce Larkin." Chuck pronounces the name of his slain friend carefully. It always seems to come back to Larkin one way or another.

"Yes. Bryce. He was the only other person alive who knew about me, my mission, my objectives, and now he's gone. We were never close, but I'm still going to miss having him around." The sorrow in her voice is hard to ignore.

Chuck responds, "Well, we were close, very close…at least once, anyway. And even with all the trouble he's managed to cause me over the past few years…I'll miss him too." Chuck lets silence fall between them for a few minutes. She seems like she's telling the truth; but then again, he always tends to trust people, even when he shouldn't. "So, where are we going, where are you taking me?"

Taking her captivating green eyes off the road for less than a second to look straight at him, she explains, "Chuck, all I can tell you right now, is that I'm taking you to a CIA safe house in Denver. Director Graham obtained five strategically located safe houses in the States, and no one else has knowledge of their existence – but me – at this point. Theoretically anyway. Regardless, getting you to the safe house in Denver is my best shot at keeping you protected from the Ring. They've apparently been watching you as closely as I have. We have no idea for how long, but we have to assume it's at least been since you uploaded the new Intersect software. If it's been longer, we may have a much larger problem on our hands."

"How could we possible have a 'larger' problem on our hands? How could things possibly be worse?" Chuck's head is suddenly spinning with all kinds of disaster scenarios.

"Chuck, you really don't understand? You can't see where this thing is headed? If the Ring's been watching you long enough, they already know about Ellie, Devon, your father, Morgan, your feelings for Sarah, they'll know all the people they can use to get you out of hiding."

"And if they don't already know, they're going to know soon enough, aren't they?" Chuck can't believe that he'd overlooked this dreadful consequence of running and hiding from the Ring. Of course they'll go after the people he loves. It should've been obvious to him from the start. As much as he's learned, he still doesn't know how to think like a cold-blooded killer. He still doesn't know how to think like a Ring agent. Most importantly, he doesn't know how to think like the dangerous woman sitting next to him who forced him into the car with a gun. Her story adds up, but it just seems too convenient…too good to be true.

She turns to him, reaches out to take his left hand, and quietly says, "You're not the only one with a short-term time limit on your life, Chuck."

He pulls his hand from hers. The truth is devastating. He sees Ellie's face flash in his mind. And then his Dad, and Devon, and Morgan, and last of all, he sees Sarah.

"I think I'm gonna throw up. Pull over. Please."

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Sarah and Casey are back in the Crown Vic. Headed west, just like Chuck told them. Orion's computer – their lifeline to Chuck – is resting safely on her lap. Chuck had left a black bag along with the computer...inside the carrying case, Sarah had found not only a normal wall plug-in power supply, but a car charger for the laptop as well. She has it plugged into the cigarette lighter socket, nervously waiting for Chuck to make contact with them.

It's only been a little over an hour since they watched the video from Chuck, and she knows that he said that he'd be trying to reach them in "the next few hours," but she's not about to miss him if he tries to make contact a little earlier. She keeps staring at the blank screen, wishing for Chuck's face to suddenly appear.

She glances over at Casey. Things have been different between the two of them since she fell apart in the motel room in Barstow. She hadn't cried like that…well…she hadn't cried like that since she found out her father had been hauled off to prison. Back in that motel room, Casey had given her permission to be a normal human being for a moment instead of an emotionless agent, and she took him up on it. After about three minutes of sobbing, she was done. She'd gone into the bathroom and washed her face. When she came back out, she'd felt braver than she had before. She knew that in allowing her to embrace her fear for Chuck, Casey had helped her remember that her feelings for Chuck didn't have to be a weakness…they could be her greatest source of strength.

"Walker, quit staring at me like that. You're starting to freak me out."

"Sorry Casey. I just wanted to thank you for what you did back there."

"Yeah, yeah, I've had this exact same discussion with Bartowski before. I catch you when you fall and all that other crap. Just keep it together long enough to express any warm fuzzy feelings you might be experiencing to Chuck and not to me." The smile that almost breaks across the big man's face tells Sarah that he knows what she's trying to say. "Nothing from Chuck on the laptop yet, huh?"

"Nothing."

"Well, I haven't seen any sign that we're being followed. None of that matters if the Ring has access to satellite imaging, of course, but there's nothing we can do about it, if they do. We're passing through Baker, a town I've never heard of. I need something to eat. What about you?"

"If you'll do drive-thru, I'm fine with it. I guess I'm starving myself. I just don't want to waste any time getting as far west as we can as fast as we can."

"Agreed."

Sarah glances back at the screen. At first, she thinks her eyes are playing tricks on her. But the longer she stares, the more sure she is that her name really is flashing back at her in green lettering on the screen. Forgetting to type, she simply asks out loud, "Chuck? Is that you?"

The screen: Yes.

"You can hear me?"

The screen: Kind of. Look there's no time. Get to Denver. Someone is taking me there against my will. I'm sorry I was so careless and stupid. I have to go – C.

Her stomach dropping at the information, Sarah turns to Casey. "We have to find an airport. Now. Someone has Chuck."

Growling in understanding, Casey reaches for his cell phone.

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Chuck had walked a few steps away from the black Cadillac before he fell to the ground and pretended to get sick. He used the sounds of his fake retching to distract from the fact that he was frantically typing on his wrist computer to Sarah. When she responded, he was so relieved. She'd found the laptop and they could now communicate. He couldn't actually hear Sarah on the other end; the laptop simply converted her speech into text for him to read. He'd give anything to really hear her voice. Anything.

Having typed his message to Sarah as quickly as he could, he is now wiping his mouth and walking back towards the car. Taking a deep breath, he opens the door.

"You okay Chuck?" His CIA kidnapper looks up at him like she actually cares about how he's feeling.

"I'm done throwing up. I still feel like crap. I just hate how often my spy life hurts everyone in my real life. No matter how hard I try, it never seems to get any easier."

"And it won't. I'm sorry. Get in. We have to get going. I don't think we're being followed, but we really can't stop again until we get to the safe house. The whole world's after you."

Chuck lowers himself into the passenger seat and closes the door. Buckling up, he asks the question he's been too afraid to ask since he first met this black-haired, green-eyed assassin.

"So, what's your name? I think we've been through enough together to entitle me to know that much about you."

Looking over her left shoulder, she pulls the car back onto the highway and floors it. Turning and smiling sweetly at him, she says, "Graves. My name is Erin Graves."

Chuck flashes on the name before she finishes saying it.

It turns out Erin Graves hasn't exactly been telling him the truth.

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Please click the green button below and let me know how you feel the story is going. Reviews are really, really important to me. I would love to hear your thoughts.


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